


no E.N.D. to the misery

by hashtagartistlife



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6063958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hashtagartistlife/pseuds/hashtagartistlife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guild is currently not a place suited for much protecting. But what the hell is Lucy going to do when the thing Natsu needs protecting from is <em>himself?</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	no E.N.D. to the misery

**Author's Note:**

> Read chapter 465, cried, drew a comic, cried some more, wrote this fic. See you at the end of the feels ride.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

After what seems like eternity, he lets go of her and steps back. Cold air rushes to take the place vacated by him. Despite the loosened embrace, they’re still close; his hands rest on her waist and hers are on his bare chest. He’s bruised and bloodied everywhere, and Lucy’s heart contracts painfully.

A particularly violent wound catches her attention, and she raises gentle fingers to trace along his face where a deep gash interrupts the curve of his jaw.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’ve had worse,” is his hoarse answer, and Lucy shakes her head at him, exasperated, angry, because didn’t he know? That wasn’t the _point—_

“You should have it looked at anyway. Porlyusica—“

“We shouldn’t bother her with something like this. She’s got enough on her plate—“

“If you think I’ll let you just waltz off into another battle with blood pouring down your face—“

“It’s hardly that dramatic—“

“Wendy, then, if you won’t see Porlyusica—“

“You do it,” he says, and looks at her so intensely that the breath is knocked out of her lungs for a split second. There’s something in those eyes of his, a sadness, a _knowing_ , and Lucy doesn’t like what they’re telling her one bit.

They look like they’re telling her goodbye.

“You do it,” he repeats, still watching her with those burning eyes. They’re somehow both forceful and infinitely soft at the same time, and Lucy can’t say no.

She exhales, heavy and long, and takes his hand. “Come on, then,” she says, turning away and leading him not to the guild, but to his and Happy’s house at the edge of the town. He follows obediently, Happy flying in the air above them. He doesn’t question why she is taking him to his place, for which Lucy is glad. She’s not entirely sure either. All she knows is that she has an irrepressible urge to _protect this boy_ , from physical harm, from emotional harm, from every single kind of damage, and the guild is currently not a place suited for much _protecting._

The guild could wait. The _war_ could wait, for a moment, for just a few minutes, while she tended to her reckless dragonslayer with eyes that looked as though they’d aged centuries in the span of a few hours.

When they reach the little wooden cottage, it’s Lucy who finds the spare key hidden under the upturned flower pot and clicks the door open. None of them question how she has this knowledge; the three of them are one unit, a family, even more so than any of the other nakama at the guild. This is the tacit knowledge between them that keeps them from wondering out loud at Lucy’s ease in the house as she finds a basin, fills it with water, and fetches clean towels and bandages. They sit in the living room, forgoing the sofa for the rug on the floor that had been a welcome home present from Lucy.

Wordlessly, she dips a towel in the hot water and gently dabs at the skin around the livid gash. Natsu winces, but otherwise doesn’t take his eyes off her. He’s looking at her like he thinks she’s going to disappear, or like _he’s_ going to disappear and the last thing he wants to see before he leaves is _her_. Neither thought is comforting, and Lucy bites back tears as she cleans and disinfects the laceration. She wants to protect him so much it _hurts_. But here he is now, evidently damaged both physically and mentally, and all she can do is treat his wounds. She can’t protect him from _anything._

“Why—“ she begins, and is mortified to find her voice is trembling— “Why do you always take it upon yourself to seek out the path of most harm and _put yourself on it?!”_ Her hand stills in its ministrations, the warm towel pressed to his cheek, and god, the gash is deeper than it looks now that it’s been cleaned up and Lucy feels like her heart is going through a shredder. “Why is it always _just you?_ For the love of god, why couldn’t you wait and tackle Zeref with all of us there to back you up?! I know you’re strong but you’re not immortal and I — just — god, Natsu, _don’t you trust me?”_

That’s not it, she knows, _she knows_ , but it’s hard not to get emotional when the two of them are sitting there, one bleeding, the other burnt, and both of them staring and staring and _staring_ at her, and all she can taste at the back of her throat is the bitter knowledge that once again, they left her behind. Abruptly, she takes her hand away from his face and turns to Happy; he holds out his paws silently. She flings the towel to the floor maybe a little harder than necessary, but when she applies burn cream and bandages to the exceed’s injuries, her hands are soft and light. 

She _hates_ this, she hates the fact that despite her year of training that she _still_ can’t accompany them, and she doesn’t realise her tears have spilled over onto her cheeks until a gentle finger wipes them away.

“… Do _you_ trust _me?_ ” comes Natsu’s hesitant voice, and Lucy looks up from her bandaging—he’s closer than she thought he was, his face inches from hers, and this time it’s _his_ hand that’s brushing over her face, catching stray tears. The graze of his fingertips against her skin feels like a shot of adrenaline, and Lucy jerks away from his touch, because if he lingers for too long she doesn’t quite know what she might do.

“… What sort of a question is that?!” she counters instead, hastily turning her focus back to Happy’s injured hands.

“Please, Lucy, just… just answer it. Please.”

His voice breaks towards the end of his request, and Lucy looks back at him to see — not tears, no, but _something_ in his eyes that breaks her heart just as effectively. Uncertainty. Her ever-confident Natsu, Natsu who had all the answers and _made them up_ if he didn’t have them, was lost, begging for reassurance. There’s a small thrill of dread in her stomach at this; what on earth could have happened while he was with Zeref that even _Natsu_ was disheartened? Did they even stand a chance against his army?

No. She refuses to go down that path. Natsu was only human. Even he had to have his moments of insecurity and doubt. And if she really wanted to protect him, she could start by helping him back up when he stumbled. So when she answers him, she doesn’t let even a single sliver of the tumult she’s feeling show in her voice.

“With my life,” she says, and the answer’s firm.

There’s a clatter as the basin of water is upturned, and Natsu throws his arms around Lucy again. She yelps as the water soaks her skirt, but the sound is muffled against his shoulder as he pulls her in tighter.

“Natsu! What—“

“Me too,” he breathes, and his voice is fervent, feverish— “me too, Lucy, I’d trust you with my life. Both of you— you and Happy— I’m putting my life in your hands, okay? _I trust you with my life._ ”

She feels like she should be touched by this declaration, but it sounds too much like a plea to save him for her to garner any comfort from it. His words should have been reassuring. Instead, Lucy finds the opposite is true.

She’s scared. She’s scared to _death._

“Why are you saying this like you’re asking me a question?” she murmurs into his skin, one hand brushing through his hair like a child’s. He’s shaking again, like he was when he hugged her out on the field straight after his return. “What happened? What’s hurt you?”

Natsu ignores this question and just hugs her tighter. Any closer now and she’ll be melded to his body. Maybe that was what he wanted. Maybe she’d let him.

“I’m trusting you with my life,” he says, voice so thick so as to be almost unintelligible, “so you gotta stop me if I say I’m gonna do something stupid, like kill myself, ‘kay?”

At this, her half-closed eyelids snap open, and she pushes him away in one sharp jerk. Her eyes meet his — blazing, incensed, _furious_.

“What — why would you — don’t even _think_ about that kind of thing—“ She’s so angry she can barely string two words together, can barely see his face or the stupid tear on his jaw that’s started bleeding again. It was probably going to scar. But that wasn’t relevant right now. “Why would that thought even _cross your mind—_ “

“Lucy,” he interrupts, and his voice is so _serious_ that even her white-hot anger falters in its tracks. “I want you to listen really carefully to what I’m going to say right now.”

And the next words out of his mouth shatter the bruised mess of her heart into tiny, sparkling pieces. 

_“I’m E.N.D.”_

 

* * *

 

_“What…. no… that can’t be… you’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking?”  
_

_“I wouldn’t joke about this. Not this, Lucy.”  
_

_“My mother… Zeref… your brother?! E.N.D? All that about you dying if Zeref dies?”  
_

_“Do you see now, Lucy? Do you see why I said all that now?”  
_

_“…. What do we do, Natsu?”  
_

_“… I don’t know, Luce. I really… really don’t know.”_


End file.
